Some restaurants have a way of winning you back after an unsatisfactory situation, as I discovered many moons ago. At this particular bistro in the north-western part of Sydney, we waited for our meals for a very long time, and after they eventually came, were so substandard I wrote a letter of complaint the next day. Within a week, a grovelling letter of apology from the manager and a $50 gift voucher arrived in the mail; my partner at the time dubbed it "Complain and win", and win we did.
On this occasion however, it wasn't really an unsatisfactory situation; it was more an unfortunate situation regarding a dessert where the chocolate failed to set. As it was a dessert which required twenty-five minutes to prepare, its failure led to K to become increasingly agitated, and he's not the most patient at the best of times. We did not complain, but much to the restaurant's credit, they allowed K to select a different dessert at no charge, and won us over by producing the earlier failed dessert afterwards free of charge. Therefore, we ended up getting three fantastic desserts for the price of one; win, win indeed!
The restaurant in question is the one-hatted Restaurant Arras, a place we only dined at late last year (previous post here). We had the degustation at the time and some of the dishes so wowed us, it was a simple choice to return when we found ourselves in the area again for a matinee show at the nearby Sydney Theatre Company. This time however, we opted for the a la carte menu, as the degustation menu was unchanged from our last visit.
The menu at Restaurant Arras is purposely obtuse, with dishes such as 'Tails of a Feather' and 'Beef with Richard Guest' listed without accompanying explanations perplexing the diner. All courses therefore require explanation from the waitstaff, who are more than willing to unleash their inner foodie.
Receiving an amuse bouche is always welcome, and on this occasion we are served a chilled beetroot soup with goat's cheese and creme fraiche. It was a refreshing (and pretty) start, with the balance of the sweet beetroot soup and the quite tart goat's cheese. It was a good dish to stimulate our palates.
My 'Tails of a Feather' is a rather unusual name for this dish, especially as it turns out to be guineafowl done several ways. I have never eaten guineafowl, but I knew it was a bird of some description. The dish is amazingly presented, and the main part of the dish is the terrine, served at room temperature, which is comprised of four layers: pressed guineafowl on the bottom, followed by a layer of leeks, then a layer of guineafowl breast cooked sous vide, and finally a layer of chicory on top. The textures were great, with each of the layers delicious on their own, and the combination was compelling. The puree smear tasted like aubergine and was something called parkin, which I've been unable to find anywhere. There was guineafowl jelly as well, but I couldn't tell which it was. The little sultana-like yellow drops scattered on the plate could be the guineafowl jelly I suppose; these were sweet and balanced the saltiness of the terrine and the mysterious parkin.
K's cassoulet was the second reincarnation of this dish on their menu (and hence the MKII), and is deconstructed with each piece of seafood individually presented on the plate. This work of art comprised of a crumbed then deep-fried oyster, prawns, scallops, and cockles. Dabs of an unknown puree were traced across the plate and a few clouds of an unknown foam sat lightly on bits of the seafood. I had the oyster (K doesn't eat them) and found the coating light and the oyster fresh. The other components were tasty also but I did not have enough to pass comment, although K was a little diffident about his entree.
After a while, the mains arrived, and we were once again impressed by the creativity and presentation.
My snapper was a huge chunk of fish unusually presented like a swollen butterfly. There was skin on the fish which was lovely and crispy, and the flesh was beautifully firm and tasty. I did find one small bone but I quickly removed it and set it aside. The foam on the middle portion did not taste of anything
to me but I guessed it was the same foam covering the cockles. The fish sat on a few batons of crumbed asparagus, which I really liked. The potato napoleon was whimsically done, presented like a napoleon cake, but with potatoes. Three wonderfully thin crisps of potatoes sandwiched double-layered waves of mash, and it tasted really scrumptious. There were three cockles as well, although there weren't enough flesh on these to warrant their inclusion in my opinion, and were probably used for presentation and their texture only.
K's beef was simply presented but done three ways, with a plump steak, two balls of faggots on a bed of spinach, and a ravioli. The poor waiter got a little embarrassed describing to us the faggots, and it's the first time we've encountered them. They are little meatballs made from mince and offal and wrapped in caul fat, and they were unusual but in a good tasty way. I only tasted a little of the steak and ravioli but I enjoyed the morsels I sampled. Bizarrely, this beef dish was accompanied by an ox tail 'tea', which was rather intriguing to say the least. The ox tail was in a teabag and after the hot water was added, the resulting tea was like a consomme. The waiter said it was sipped to cut down the richness of the beef on the plate, but with more beef!
Having tasted two of the restaurant's desserts in the degustation on our previous visit, we wanted to try the others, and so I ordered the 'A Bombe' (which is not a Bombe Alaska as I incorrectly assumed) and K the 'Coulant au Chocolat - Michel Bras', which as mentioned previously, takes 25 minutes to prepare. When we were given the sad news of the coulant's failure, K ordered the 'Banana in Pyjamas', which is a dessert we had and enjoyed last time.
I was very impressed by my dessert's presentation, especially the amazingly delicate spun toffee. The toffee was like an incredible nest that circled the chocolate-covered ice cream dome as it spiralled towards the heavens; it was certainly too pretty to eat. But eat it I did, and it was delicious. The hazelnut ice cream was encased by a solid chocolate dome with sprinkles of candied hazelnuts and Frangelico and lime, and it tasted a little like a refined Magnum ice cream. Together with the spun toffee, it was a delightful dessert, and rather large too.
The replacement 'Bananas in Pyjamas' was just like last time, with small cubes of fried banana together with chocolate sticks and other bits and pieces. I didn't get to taste any but K said it was better than last time.
After three decent-sized courses, we were on the precipice of fullness. As we contemplated the amazing petits fours selection about to come, we were served the hitherto unsuccessful Coulant au Chocolat, much to our surprise and slight apprehension. From a quick search on the internet afterwards, Michel Bras is a famous French chef who has a signature dessert of chocolate coulant, and this one (visually at least) appeared to be a good replica. It is like a chocolate fondant, with a cylinder of chocolate pudding and a scoop of ice cream on top (sorry, I didn't get the flavour but it tasted again like vanilla). The shell broke very easily to reveal the lovely and light pudding inside, and we gobbled up every mouthful despite our stomachs' protestations.
Better (or worse, depending on you look at it) yet, during the extra coulant course, we were brought over the magnificent petits fours platter, and once again we were bowled over by the incredible selection. Unfortunately, I was so full I could not even manage one piece (but I did manage to scrabble together a few bad photos of the platter), and even K could manage only two pieces, both marshmallows. It was a little unfortunate that between us we could only manage a few petits fours, but we were more than happy to have had the coulant.
Once again, we staggered out at the end of a long meal, fully satisfied by the creative food from Adam Humphrey, even if K was a little annoyed by the lengthy wait between courses. We were slightly worried that being a Saturday night , there was only sparse patronage (about half the restaurant was filled), despite it also being a theatre-going night. The UK-centric food and service here at Restaurant Arras deserves a much wider audience, especially when the chef puts so much effort into sourcing such unusual ingredients as guineafowl. Hopefully, it will still be around next time we revisit Walsh Bay, as it is a fine restaurant more than worthy of its Good Food Guide one-hatted status. It not only serves great Modern British fare with humour and style, it does so with keeping the diner happy and full, a respectable combination.
What we liked: ambience, artwork on a plate, eccentric ingredients, diner satisfaction
Favourite dish: Birds of a Feather
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